


Washing Up

by Ladytalon



Category: Independence Day
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-10
Updated: 2010-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set somewhere between 'Reunion' and 'With You.'  Major Mitchell comes home to find his wife looking irresistible, and he can't wait to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Washing Up

.....

He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't help getting excited at the sight of her. Matt Mitchell had most assuredly been taught better, but coming into the kitchen to see his wife Sara washing dishes only wearing a thin sundress that was stretched tightly over her swollen stomach…well, he just hoped it wouldn't take too much convincing to get her in the mood. Matt dropped his bag by the door and hurriedly pulled off his fatigues, stripping down to his boxers and undershirt and leaving his boots neatly lined up with Sara's smaller pair.

Sara was still washing the dishes when he slipped into the kitchen, and he grinned as she suddenly tossed her head to get her hair out of her eyes. Stepping forward, Matt reached up to smooth her tangled auburn hair off her forehead. Sara jumped. "Matt, you startled me…" her voice trailed off as he moved his hands down her neck and down her arms. "What are you doing?"

Matt placed an open-mouthed kiss on the back of her neck and bit down gently. "I'm helping you wash up." He guided her hands beneath the water, nuzzling just below her ear where he knew she was especially sensitive. Sara sighed and leaned back, her breath coming faster when she felt his arousal.

When she pressed against him, Matt gave up the pretense of 'helping' and quickly stripped off his tank top to shove it in the sink – lifting it up, he squeezed so that the warm soapy water ran down his fist and soaked the front of her dress. "Matthew James Mitchell!" Sara gasped in shock, trying to push away from the sink – he held her in place easily and dipped the shirt in the water once more. She shivered as he directed the water over the swell of her breasts and stomach until her dress was entirely drenched, clinging to her skin. Finally dropping the balled-up fabric back into the sink, he leaning over her shoulder to turn her face towards him.

Sara whimpered as he slanted his mouth over hers, sliding his tongue into her mouth as he ran his hands up her belly to cup her full breasts in his hands. Matt rubbed her hardened nipples slowly, mindful of the increased sensitivity that pregnancy caused, and was rewarded by his wife's small hand fumbling for him. Dropping one hand to the waistband of his boxers, Mitchell pushed them down past his hips and guided her hand to his stiffened cock. Sara massaged him as expertly as ever and he loosed an appreciative growl when she curled her fist around his shaft and began stroking rhythmically. "_Fuck_, that's good." Reaching back around he slipped his hand down between her legs, stirring her with his fingers until her frantic moans made him release her just long enough to turn her around and lift her onto the narrow kitchen counter. "Lean back, baby…yes, just like that…"

He gave a silent prayer of thanks that he was tall enough for this, and sheathed himself inside Sara's slick core with an appreciative groan. She was lying back gripping the formica with white knuckles, so he knew better than to draw this out – besides, with her looking like this and him not having to work in the morning, he'd have plenty of opportunity to make love to her until she begged him to stop. Matt threaded his fingers in hers to hold her against him, then started to thrust.

Sara keened as he seated himself fully inside her, releasing her left hand to settle his thumb over her clitoris. With every in-thrust his hips banged against his wrist, causing his thumb to press against her. Her swollen belly quivered with each thrust, and he stopped suddenly to lay his palm over her stomach, worried that he might be too rough. "Matt, _please_," she begged. Well, he guessed he wasn't.

"Yes ma'am." Resettling himself between her legs, Mitchell shoved into her hard and fast, thumbing her clit and loving each moan he drew from her. "Come for me, Sara, yes…" She tightened around him with another shriek and he threw his head back, groaning her name as he emptied himself inside her. His frenzied thrusts slowed, and Matt slammed a fist against one of the overhanging cabinets to help prop himself up as her muscles drew the last few shudders from his body. "You should do the dishes barefoot more often."

His wife's eyes narrowed at him suddenly, slapping his hand away from where it rested on her stomach. "So that's what this is about? Me being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?"

Uh oh.

~_fin_~


End file.
